


a thousand miles away (is better than having you here at arm’s length)

by CourtneyCourtney



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: Angst, Between Seasons/Series, F/M, Mild Gore, Sex Dream, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-05
Updated: 2016-02-05
Packaged: 2018-05-16 03:22:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5811793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CourtneyCourtney/pseuds/CourtneyCourtney
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just for this afternoon, Peggy thinks, she can pretend. She pauses at the top of the stairs, planning to keep this moment tucked away for another day.</p><p>Just for now she can pretend it's her and Jarvis living in a bubble.  She can pretend she isn't visiting Los Angeles for a case, that she doesn't have to face Daniel in one hour. She can pretend that Jarvis isn't here to escort her as a friend, that he isn't living here with his wife.  She can pretend they're as close as they could have been if she hadn't withdrawn over the past few months, that they're just two people excited to reunite and pal around Tinseltown.</p><p>(or, Peggy cultivates some distance between herself and Jarvis between Season One and Season Two)</p><p>(Spoilers for 2.01 & 2.02 but no further)</p>
            </blockquote>





	a thousand miles away (is better than having you here at arm’s length)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TennantsLittleKitten](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TennantsLittleKitten/gifts).



> @TennantsLittleKitten - Um, you warned me about the heart eyes at the racetrack but failed to mention how utterly in love Peggy looked when she got off the plane and saw Jarvis! She looked for all the world like that flamingo cock-blocked her. I saw you were disappointed with Peggy and Jarvis's (lack of a) relationship (and to be honest I'm getting disappointed too), so it's for you. Here's hoping we get some better interactions later this season. <3
> 
> This started out fluffy and fun but alas, my superpower is turning everything I touch to angst, so here we are. (I just got really sad about this ship for no real reason??? I have no one to blame but myself and my inability to stay off Peggysous blogs, but still.)
> 
> Title paraphrased from Mary Prankster's song "Arm's Length"

“Miss Carter.”

Just for this afternoon, Peggy thinks, she can pretend. She pauses at the top of the stairs, planning to keep this moment tucked away for another day.

Just for now she can pretend it's her and Jarvis living in a bubble.  She can pretend she isn't visiting Los Angeles for a case, that she doesn't have to face Daniel - _Chief Sousa_ , that is - in one hour. She can pretend that Jarvis isn't here to escort her as a _friend_ , that he isn't living here with his wife.  She can pretend they're as close as they could have been if she hadn't withdrawn over the past few months, that they're just two people excited to reunite and pal around Tinseltown.

Peggy puts on her sunglasses, the slightest defense from the sight below her. Still, she can only cover her eyes; the smile that spreads across the rest of her face is impossible to hide.

" _Mister Jarvis_."

*****

It had been Peggy's intent to create some space between herself and Mister Jarvis. If pressed she wouldn't have been able to fully articulate why.  Thankfully he never asked, but the mere thought of having someone pry was enough to make her heart pound in her plan's initial stages.

It wasn't that he couldn't keep up with her; Jarvis had more than proven his mettle when he piloted a plane and prepared to take down his best friend. Even if she didn't want him around, Peggy couldn't say she didn't need him.

Besides, even if she didn't need him around, Peggy wanted Jarvis around. She enjoyed his company a bit too much, she began to realize. It hadn't been an issue when she first called him for a quick favor here or there, when they met at one of their houses for afternoon tea if they were both free. It was nice to have another friend besides Angie, and Peggy assumed Mister Jarvis felt similarly.

It was Peggy's job to find patterns, to overanalyze the available information until pieces clicked into place. Even if she never mentioned it, Peggy never let any action or emotion go unnoticed.

Unless said action or emotion was her own, apparently. That was the only explanation for the realization that came crashing down around her one afternoon at the automat.

It's the first time she and Jarvis have shared a meal there face to face, and it's too much.  Peggy's heart threatens to burst at the intimacy. They sit together and talk together and laugh together. Angie isn't working, and anyone else there might miss his ring, might mistake them for a couple and _why did she even entertain that thought?_

She doesn't get up and leave, but it's a near thing, and it's the only time she ever wished her lunch break went by quicker.

It's then that Peggy wonders why Jarvis hasn't made a move to introduce his wife yet, why it's always only the two of them out together. It was one thing on Peggy's end - the espionage Howard employed them with really was a two-person job, if even that, no room for any more variables. Besides, her personal calendar is woefully lacking names and dates.  Jarvis, however.  Jarvis should be _half_ of something, should at least be making excuses or invitations on his wife's behalf more than he is.

(Peggy feels a bit thankful that he hasn't been making excuses or invitations on his wife's behalf more than he is, then promptly feels a bit sick over the former feeling.)

Jarvis had told her months ago not to blame herself for everything, but this rests entirely on her head.  She vows to make their visits less frequent, to wrap herself up tighter in work, in friends, in the bottle if it will get her farther away from this ugly truth. She couldn't let those thoughts catch back up to her; if it came at the cost of Jarvis's increasing friendship, then that was the price she had to pay.

Peggy thinks perhaps she misread the signs, misinterpreted his gesture of giving her Steve's blood as being friendlier than it truly was.

(Months pass, however, and she has yet to meet Mrs. Jarvis.)

*****

 _Peggy knows it's a nightmare; she's had it before.  Rationally she knows he would have been_ with her _and out of harm's way, but this isn't reality._

_She's running through New York and she can't find Edwin anywhere. She's running through New York in the wake of Dottie and Dr. Fenhoff succeeding in releasing Howard's Midnight Oil, and she doesn't stop. The details don’t matter when you’re dreaming (or, at least, they shouldn’t), but Peggy doesn't stop because she knows he isn't there. She would see him if he were anywhere here in the crowd._

_It's a nightmare, she knows, but Howard is dead, and half the city is dead, and now Edwin is dead.  The details don't matter when you're dreaming, but they tend to stain when your friends are dead and in pieces at your feet.  He's so bloody Peggy doesn't recognize him at first, piecing it together more from his clothes and his wedding band, but once she does she cries and doesn't stop. She sobs until she feels like choking, until she wakes up gasping._

_She's never seen or talked to Anna Jarvis in her life, yet Peggy is still terrified of having to be the one to tell her the news._

*****

Peggy takes Daniel out for a drink, just the two of them. She wants it to mean more than it actually does.

"You're still stuck on him, huh?" Daniel asks, resigned but unsurprised as he pulls away from their lackluster kiss.  They're sitting together in one of Howard Stark's cars, Peggy behind the wheel.  The city street around them is dead, but Peggy still feels like she's in the middle of a crash.

"Yes and no," Peggy replies after what feels like a lifetime.  It's all the answer she can give him.  Fortunately, it's all the answer Daniel seems to need; he doesn't pry, doesn't get angry or defensive.  He doesn't bow his head in defeat, merely looks at her a moment longer before exiting the car.  He closes the passenger door softly, its gentle click signaling the sad end of their failed tryst.

Peggy isn't surprised when he's made Chief, when he transfers to Los Angeles, but it stings nonetheless.  She wishes later she had at least offered to keep in touch, whether the gesture was empty or not.

*****

It had been Peggy's intent to put some distance between herself and Mister Jarvis, but when he announces he's leaving to manage the Stark Estate out west, Peggy thinks her plan worked maybe a bit too well.

"Everyone is leaving me for sunny California," Peggy says with a forced laugh; if Jarvis notices the fakery, he doesn't mention it.  Reflecting on Sousa's recent transfer, Peggy adds a more heartfelt, "You'll keep in touch, of course."

Jarvis smiles.  "Of course, Miss Carter.  I'll be sure to inform you of our new address and telephone number as soon as we get settled."

Peggy looks down into her cup of tea, avoiding his contented expression and hoping her drink hasn't cooled quite yet.  "See that you do."

*****

It wasn't like her to have so many regrets, Peggy thinks, especially when it came to men.  It was best to bottle up what went unexpressed, to square those feelings away in a chest to be hidden under the bed and never opened again.  Missteps should only be analyzed this closely during wartime.  Missteps were not a part of Peggy Carter's make-up (until, apparently, they were).

Life was too short, regardless. There was no point in worrying about _men_ on the other side of the country, not when there was still work to be done in New York. Peggy left those thoughts behind in favor of the SSR, in favor of spending time with Angie and Carol and whoever else from the Griffith House was still willing to be seen with her in public. 

She and Angie alone go out more often than not, taking in dinner and a show whenever their schedules allow for it.  It's cozy; it fills a space in her life that craves one-on-one companionship.

It's one of those nights, the two of them out eating (not at the automat, _never_ at the automat; it isn't the same as before), Angie on another tangent about acting when her friend shoots Peggy a sharp look.

"You talk to Mister Fancy lately?"  

The unexpected detour in their conversation surprises Peggy.  She wonders what sort of game Angie is playing at, eyeing the other woman.  "I haven't, no. He's been busy, I'm certain - "

"Not too busy to call you and give you his new number," Angie interjects.

"Not to mention finally spending some quality time with his  _wife_ ," Peggy finishes, the final word coming out harsher than intended. She smiles and shrugs slightly, attempting to add some levity to the statement.

Angie's expression shifts to something like a moue before softening.  "Do you remember that play we went to last week, the one in that back-alley theater. Super small, not much in the way of set, or plot, really."  She doesn't wait for Peggy to assent before continuing, spearing a piece of asparagus off her plate in the process.  "I didn't expect much going in, but the longer we watched it, the more it affected me, and I was like, that could have been me. I _wanted_ that to be me.  Professionally speaking, you know?  Like I didn't know I wanted to be a part of it until I was there watching with center seats, and then I was like, 'Damn, I wish I had that part.'"

The accuracy of her friend’s metaphor is like a punch to the chest. It takes Peggy a moment to reel in her emotions, to shift her expression to one of neutrality and then – knowing she isn’t fooling Angie or her sharp gaze in the slightest – to one of melancholy amusement.

"I believe I know the feeling," Peggy replies, letting the mood linger for a moment before suggesting a change of subject.  Angie's eyes are expressive and watchful as ever, but she doesn't pry any further.

*****

It's _excruciating_ at first.  Peggy calls without a plan, leading to a series of uncomfortable pauses, conversation dangling between them like the cord connecting her telephone to the wall.  She isn't sure what to say once she's exhausted the typical small talk - how's the weather, how's the wife, how are  _you_ holding up.

Jarvis is holding up well, it seems. He doesn't seem to mind the lulls half as much as Peggy does, content with the silence in a way Peggy isn't sure she ever could be.  He airs his typical grievances with the climate and Howard's 'whimsical' nature.  He intends to install a _menagerie_ , Jarvis informs Peggy in a sour tone, and if she by some chance talks to Howard in the near future she should do her best to dissuade him from the idea.

"And how many people have you made this request of recently?" Peggy teases.

She can practically hear Jarvis rolling his eyes from the west coast.  "You alone, Miss Carter," he replies, "as I suspect you're the only person Howard would actually listen to in this instance."

It's compliment enough to make Peggy smile, and  _that_ is enough to keep her coming back. She tries to call once a month or so; it's never on a tight schedule, but Jarvis understands. Jarvis just seems to be pleased to talk to her

It's never on a tight schedule, but it's frequent enough that calling Jarvis out of the blue for accommodations on this business trip isn't suspicious.

(She tries not to ask Jarvis for things in general, because he  _will_ say yes, he always says 'yes,' and she  _will_ cross a line she doesn't intend to cross. It's only a matter of time; he's  _nice, so nice_ and she'd hate herself for abusing his charity.)

Still, she asks him to meet her at the airport, and he does (of course he does), and Peggy can pretend for a moment that nothing has changed except the location.

(The flamingo is upsetting, in a few senses of the word.)

*****

Anna hugs. Of course. Anna is so perfectly everything Peggy isn't. Peggy wouldn't be nearly as demonstrative, even if she were by some miracle married to a man like Jarvis. He deserves the open affection, Peggy thinks, even if it doesn't seem entirely his style. Theirs is a relationship that deserves to be seen in public, not treated like a covert operation or reserved solely for private quarters.

Peggy makes it her mission to not war with other women, regardless of her personal opinion, but she does truly enjoy Anna's company. There's a great deal they have in common, a great deal Peggy admires about her new friend. She admires Anna's gumption, her vivacity, how the other woman seems to know what you want or need before even you know yourself.

(Peggy only hopes Anna hasn't picked up on one particular want of hers; she's certain Anna wouldn't mock her for it - not when she so clearly desires the same person Peggy is pining for - but Peggy would _so_ hate to muck this up, to put herself in any way between the happy couple. The knowledge that she met the mister so much longer before she met the missus is another subtle reminder for Peggy to keep her distance, to give them space to be themselves without whatever influence she might bring.)

*****

_Peggy knows it’s a dream; she’s had it before, albeit not since arriving in Los Angeles._

_It's a dream because they're always driving, Peggy in the passenger's seat, but they never reach their destination. She's not sure there even is a destination, and if there is it never matters. What matters is Peggy putting her hand on Edwin's right thigh. He doesn't stop her, instead looking over at her with reverence, with adoration instead of the disgust she knows she would be faced with if she tried this in reality._

_It's a dream because there's always room for her on his lap.  He doesn't stop her from straddling him, instead wrapping his warm hands under the backs of her thighs for support. He doesn't stop Peggy as she undoes all seven buttons on his dress shirt, as she grips his broad shoulders for leverage._

_They kiss at this point. They always do. Details don’t matter when you’re dreaming (or, at least, they shouldn’t, Peggy thinks), but this isn't a detail, it's a constant._

_Edwin's hands are hot underneath her skirt, moving across her skin, moving up, and he doesn't stop._ _His left hand moves to the small of her back for support, but his right hand keeps moving._ _He doesn’t stop, fingers sliding up, and_ up _until Peggy is parting her lips in a silent scream for more._

 _Edwin doesn’t stop toying with her, bringing her to the edge and back but never quite getting her there. He could never be this cruel in reality, but Peggy would like to see him try. She cants her hips just so, and_ there _._

_“Don’t stop,” Peggy pleads before she’s lost, throwing her head back far enough for her curls to brush against the steering wheel._

_"I didn’t intend to," Edwin quips, and he_ _doesn’t, playing her to a crescendo as he mouths at her chest and stomach through the fabric of her shirt._

 

Peggy wakes up with a rush of shame and her hand between her legs. She doesn’t stop, biting back his name when she comes. The tears fall regardless.

*****

How daft she had been, Peggy thinks, shaking as she surveys the wreckage of Isodyne Energy.  How  _stupid_ it was to think she could spend a night this lovely with someone as lovely as Jason without it falling to shambles around her. How stupid to think she could care about anyone without getting them killed.

Daniel means well, but he's the last person Peggy wants to see at the scene. She doesn't want to think about what it means for their relationship that he's still  _here_ and Jason decidedly  _isn't._ It means business, is what, so business is what she talks until she can't stand it anymore, until she spies Jarvis waiting in the wings.

She knows what it means that Jarvis is still here, steadfast as ever. It's a reassurance that not everything she touches turns to dust. For a moment Peggy is relieved someone came out unscathed from their adventures with her, that Jarvis will continue to return to her for the foreseeable future. It's an irritant some days, but it's comfort tonight that he can be relied on, that he won't up and disappear like Howard or die like Steve, like Jason.

It's selfish, Peggy thinks.  It's  _so_ selfish, and she can only hope Daniel won't put two and two together, but she goes to Jarvis.  She looks him full in the face and asks for a lifeline, for him to help pull her back to shore, just this once.

Just for tonight, Peggy thinks.

(She doesn't need him, but isn't the same as not wanting him.)


End file.
